Misery Loves Company

What is the difference between an addict and a junkie?
Why does one get sympathy and the other, judgement, when they both just want to get high?
Life is beautiful; it’s alluring, but it’s also hell.
It’s also painful and depressing.
Everybody wants an out, everybody needs one.
That’s maybe why people use drugs.
It’s also why people fall in love.
It’s why my brain was thought-tied scrambling for the correct words to form the first day I attempted to say hi to you.
Why despite you being so harmful to my soul, my body refused to ever let go.
You were my out, my source of, and also mechanism of blocking out the pain.
You, an irony of a human, gave me reason to smile at being stabbed in the heart.
These days, I’m clear-headed, no longer high.
No longer hurting from my feelings, just from what life throws.
These days, I miss you. And illogocally so, seeing as you seem to have moved on.
Moved on to finding your own new source of high.
Almost as though I never moonwalked on the cravices of the arteries to your brain to stimulate your CBD receptors.
I miss getting drunk on the brush of your lips against mine.
The only dopamine rush I get now are from thinking about how blissful our life was together.
The thought, like a hangover, also brings me pain in my head and heart.
I miss you, the same way I’m grateful you’re no longer here.
Misery loves company and you were my company.
These days, I’m no longer miserable. Just bare faced sad.
And in love with someone else’s source of high.
So what’s the difference between the one who breaks your heart and one who ghosts you, when we both felt the hurt?
Why are you seen as the victim, and I, the perpetrator?
This life, much like my skin and unlike yours, has never been fair.
What’s the difference between a junkie and an addict?
Ojoro.

6 thoughts on “Misery Loves Company

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